Smoke and Mirrors
by exorcistor
Summary: Castiel is a fallen angel who rips Dean out of Heaven on Alastair's command to help arrange the coming Apocalypse. future Sam/Cas, Dean/Cas, Sam/Dean/Cas
1. Best Laid Plans

Word count: 500-ish

Genre: AU

Rating: worksafe

Note: Inspired by an amazing gif-set on tumblr where Cas isn't an angel but a demon. This is my take on that AU, we'll see where this goes, yeah?

* * *

"It's not going according to plan."

Ruby's voice echoed through the heated cave like room, drawing Alastair's attention from his latest favourite toy, currently strung up on what looked like a mock-version of a surgeon's table. The demon glared at the altar at the end of the room, the cup full of blood bubbling and sizzling in answer to his annoyance. On the other side of the line, Ruby must surely be wincing to herself, her master's anger being projected clearly through the swirls of the liquid.

"What is that supposed to mean?" snarled the demon.

"Sam Winchester is too effective," Ruby's voice explained. "He is hot on Lilith's trail, drawing nearer to her every day. And we still have many seals left to break; John Winchester broke so late…"

A low growl erupted from Alastair's form, and he plunged the razor-sharp knife even deeper into the manifested body before him; pinning the soul to the table before he turned around towards the altar. Ruby was already making excuses; assuring her master that she had meant no disrespect; that no one could have expected John Winchester to hold steady under for so long the torment he had been subjected to, but the higher ranking demon would have none of it.

"So distract the little bastard, then!" he said, moving to speak directly into the cup. "That's your job, ain't it, bitch? To make sure little Sammy doesn't stray from the path we've laid out for him. Are you telling me a little human pup is too much for you to handle?"

"I am doing my best!" Ruby protested. "He won't let me distract him, it's always 'Dean, Dean, Dean' no matter what I do to keep his mind occupied, he can't stop thinking about revenging his brother as soon as possible!"

Alastair made a face. Of course. The other brother. The one who had sold his soul to the Pit, and yet, managed to score himself a place in the Divine Fields, fucking Angels coming down to rip his oh-so-holy spirit from the claws of the Demon Queen herself. It was their biggest loss in this war in a long time, and Alastair's teeth still itched with desire to have a go at the soul which his Queen had promised to him, after he was done with the father.

"Those two are just deliciously co-dependent, aren't they?" he mumbled to himself. "Two of a kind, really."

"What?" Ruby sounded confused.

"Nothing you need to worry yourself about," he dismissed her. "I'll find a way to halt Sam Winchester's progress until we're good and ready for the grande finale."

And with that, he ended the call by picking up the cup and emptying its contents into his victim's unwilling mouth, the blood turning into liquid fire the moment it touched the soul's lips. As the screams echoed through the walls of the room, Alastair summoned Castiel to his side.


	2. Fallen Angel

Word count: 600-ish

Genre: AU

Rating: worksafe

Note: Inspired by an amazing gif-set on tumblr where Cas isn't an angel but a demon. This is my take on that AU, we'll see where this goes, yeah?

* * *

Castiel was not like any other demon serving in the Pit. Castiel wasn't even like any of the other fallen angels lost to Perdition. Alastair was always more than a little intrigued by the former angel, and he would certainly love to get his hands on those wings of his; giant, dark wings which were marred with years of hellfire and ashes, but still managed to look powerful and almost holy. The fallen angels kept carefully away from the racks, though, never willing to stain themselves with the suffering of humans souls, even after having filthied themselves beyond recognition, so he would most likely never get to carve in them.

Alastair had spent many millennia trying to figure out what set Castiel aside from the rest of the fallen brethren, and finally he did believe himself to have found the difference. There was no rage emitting from the Fallen One before him. Fallen angels were usually the very essence of rage, so lost in their own misery over their lost connection to Heaven that they became spiteful towards everything and everyone. Even the original residents of the one place which has been willing to take them in after their Grace had been tainted.

Alastair held no love for any of the creatures of Hell, Heaven or Earth, but if there were one species he really couldn't stand, it was angels. And the Fallen Ones fluttering around on broken wings, acting like they were still above those who had also fallen into the Pit? Pathetic.

Castiel, however, was not overcome by rage towards the much envied human race, like most of the other Fallen Ones who had tumbled after their lost brother into the fire and smoke. Instead, the fallen angel was filled to the brim with tightly controlled hatred for its brethren, white-hot and almost pure in its intensity.

Alastair licked his lips. Yes, he could trust Castiel to carry out this mission without getting sidetracked. He knew nothing about the circumstances which had cast the angel down from Heaven, and truth be told, he didn't much care. Though, those wings were tempting. He had to remind himself that today, he had much more urgent and important business than satisfying his own desire to carve through feathers and bone; business came before pleasure after all. At least sometimes.

"So, Castiel. I have a mission for you."

Castiel didn't answer, the fallen angel only looked blankly at the demon. Alastair knew that he out-ranked the Fallen Ones, what with being the second in command after Lilith - at least after Azazel's destruction - so he could demand the creature before him to show proper respect. He didn't much feel like it, however; he'd always found defiance more amusing anyway.

All of Castiel's passive appearance and carefully contained hatred aside, as Alastair uttered his next sentences, he could detect a flicker of interest of the former angel's eyes.

"I hear you have a score to settle with the little bastards upstairs. How would you like a chance to steal a soul from them?"

Castiel stared at him. And then, suddenly, those huge, black wings flared out, rippling with some emotion Alastair couldn't interpret - what? He didn't have wings, and why the hell would he care about a pair of extra limbs beyond the opportunity to try new methods of torture that they presented? - and the angel's face shifted into an expression well suited for a fierce warrior who had been wronged and was out for enemy blood. Or Grace.

"That, I would like very much."


	3. Jimmy Novak

Word count: 400-ish

Genre: AU

Rating: worksafe

Note: Inspired by an amazing gif-set on tumblr where Cas isn't an angel but a demon. This is my take on that AU, we'll see where this goes, yeah?

* * *

Jimmy Novak was intended for the angel of the Lord, Castiel. His entire bloodline was designed to manufacture the perfect vessel for Castiel's Grace; for him to use for holy purposes.

Upon falling from the Divine Fields, Castiel no longer had the right to any holy missions, nor his vessel. While Castiel was, technically, a demon now, the Fallen Ones could not pick a vessel as easily as a demon could, nor could they force entry. They still needed permission. And what human would give permission to a messenger from Hell, sent to Earth to ensure the beginning of the Apocalypse? Certainly not a sane one.

Castiel was not below lying to get what he needed for this mission, however.

"I come to you with the urgency of a holy mission, Jimmy", Castiel says, enforcing dark power into the words. Jimmy shudders under the force of it, looking all around him to try and pinpoint the source of it, but Castiel stays cloaked. "Will you help me?"

"But why me? What help can I be of for you? I'm just a man," Jimmy says.

"You should not think so lowly of yourself, James Novak," Castiel says. "You are special amongst men, a unique creature, chosen for bigger purposes than you can imagine."

"But my family..."

"Tell me, Jimmy, do you believe in God?" Castiel interrupts.

Jimmy nods. "Of course."

"Then believe me when I tell you this; in the name of the Father I swear, no harm will come to your family."

The words slide easily from the fallen angel. They don't even cause a twinge of pain. God doesn't care, either way, so why should there be any wrath awaiting for lying in His name?

Jimmy swallows. "Then, yes, Castiel. I will help you."

Castiel promised no pain would be inflicted on him. Castiel promised rewards for his servitude. Castiel promised safety for his family. As the dark smoke pushes its way down Jimmy's throat and lungs, tearing flesh and tissue on it's way down, and he connects to the angel - the demon - he knows none of the words Castiel spoke were true, and he screams, and screams, until his mouth is silenced by a will which is not his own.

And after, he continues to scream within the confines of his own mind, which have now become a prison.


End file.
